"THUCK!" That was the sound of a door being smashed in my face.
On its other side, laid the man who had been instrumental in causing my latest stream of nightmares, who was more than happy to take his "small" information packages and start reading about them in solitude.
All of my days of hard work, gone, with the silent command to continue my next project, as discussed in our first briefing.
No thank you, no question about my wellbeing, no passing remarks about, "you look well," nothing, nada, zip.
'He didn't even ask a single question about the progress of the proposal to the Nation Assembly.' I could feel my teeth fighting from frustration.
'FUCK HIM!!!'
Were it any other task, in any other circumstances when I was "given" this much autonomy, I would be jumping in joy by the trust placed in me by my superiors.
'Like the first time I managed the territory for a few days when my father was out on business.' I had felt immense pride in the fact that I had earned that trust, to be left to my own devices. That someone trusted in my capabilities enough to give me such control.
'FUCK THEM BOTH!!!'
But it wasn't trust that had earned me this autonomy, for even a fool would be able to see what they were doing. The Queen had simply refused to come out of her royal chambers to issue any semblance of a command, with her accompanying maids saying that she looked as if she was in a constant daze.
'I need her to snap the hell out of it!' The Queen's support was essential if I wanted to even begin setting up my plans moving forward. The number of Royal Decrees I would need co-authored would be enough to send any Duke to the infirmary from a stroke.
Normally, the only person I could rely upon would have been the Royal Commander, the only person with enough authority to tell the Queen to 'get her head straight' and still be left with his head squarely on his shoulders. Even her own younger brother, despite my coddling, did not dare approach his sister, saying she "needed her space."
I had somehow even convinced him to work the courage up to reach her chamber doors, however, he stuttered at the last step, refusing to budge.
Of course, we both knew that it was just an excuse, but how could I say that to the poor little boy when he hit me with his pleading round blue eyes, looking like a lamb about to be slaughtered should he enter her room.
Thus, I was left to my own devices, pulling more and more clumps of hair out by the second in frustration as I counted my work at my new administrative desk, the large round table.
'At this rate I might go bald soon...'
Although I could not enforce any big changes for the moment without Her Majesty's approval, at the very least I could start contacting and issuing commands to my capable and trusted subordinates.
After all, my title as a daughter of a Duke was not just for show. I had my own capable hands, able to handle large managerial tasks. However, I would be dreaming if I thought that the mere resources of a Duke's daughter would be enough to even start unpacking all the intricacies of the policies, decrees, demands, and changes that would be implemented.
Even with a rough plan at hand about how to 'introduce the future of Alkavia' to its various stakeholders, it was impossible to move forward with the plan while two key components of the plan were missing and unable to be reached.
The Queen locked up in her room, and the Commander of the Royal Army who had seemed to abandon his duty altogether and run off to God's nowhere.
'Just thinking about how many heart attacks nobles will face, just realizing the fact that Commander Lastrange is no longer at the Palace, makes me shiver.'
Honestly, the work right now was just to keep myself busy, as the real work would be done at the Alkavian National Assembly.
Plans of this magnitude would be impossible to implement even with the help of the two greatest power blocks of the nation.
'Even if I could represent my family's stance...which I'm sure my father would suuurre like, there's too many people that would be demanding answers, and we would not be strong enough to just ignore them.'
Looking at one of the countless sheets of papers strewn upon my desk, after an accurate summary, the nation of Alkavia currently housed within it 5 Dukes, 34 Counts, 183 Barons, and 21 Nobel Knight Families. And all of them would either need to be on board with the changes or exterminated.
In fact, that monster of a man, that I friendly give the nickname the "Demon King" in my head, had even offered up his support to "destroy any annoyances" his presence might cause.
'I swear that man has a better grasp on what's happening in this nation than me sometimes.'
Our conversations had been nothing short of enlightening, but even putting the contents of them aside, the man himself, was no less interesting.
Of course, I had theorized what he might be, where he was from, how he got this information, is he really an Apostle of God, or some demon from hell, or some last survivor of an ancient civilization of some kind. And would you know it, even he himself had drawn attention to these questions about his identity. However, he had simply stated,
"Does it really matter who I am? What difference would it make? It's not like having that information will somehow make you better perform the tasks I assign. Trust? Don't even go thinking about that route, facts are I'm too valuable of an asset for you not to trust. What other options do you have? Betray me? Try to lock me up in some prison to try and interrogate me? Are you seriously stupid enough to do something like that, when I'm being so cooperative? Plus, I'm sure you know what would happen if you go down that route..."
None of us two in that room were stupid. He had left what didn't need to be said, unsaid.
Thus, I buried my curiosities, and made a plan to 'help' the countless nobles bury their own, making a 'cover story' for this man who refused to elaborate about his past. After all, not everyone was as pragmatic about the current situation as us.
'In fact, I'm sure if Azuleth had called anyone else at this time, we would currently be in the midst of war with this beast.'
The very thought itself of such an outcome was hard to fathom.
From the Vice-Captain's words alone, if he attacked our Kingdom with malice, the nation would fall.
'And I'm sure he would take pleasure in doing so...'
Although I wasn't able to get an accurate grasp on that man's true nature, I was at least able to piece together some clues about his personality.
If there were three things that this being desired, the first would be strength, the second the first, and the third the other two.
Strength, strength, strength.
Apparently, he begrudgingly admitted during our discussions that he had to be honest with me about his goals at least if he wanted me to do my job effectively, which basically served to keep him happy. In my past times, I could focus on 'revolutionizing' the nation with his knowledge, but his demands he spoke always came first.
That was the basis of our 'arrangement' as boss and secretary.
Other than his obsession with strength, I couldn't for the life of me see into his psyche. Every move that he made was logical from an objective point of view, but that's exactly what confused me.
Every person, no matter how old or young, has ideas, viewpoints, a compass they use to think about the ramifications of their actions.
Even psychopaths, who think logically, have things they care about. Though they might not feel certain emotions, there are goals that bring them pleasure.
However, no matter what topic we discussed, it seemed as if that man was just continually bored... like a machine, spitting out information, doing what must be done.
When we discussed how these changes would affect the people, he spoke only of the realities of the situation.
He was passionate about no topic. I could not see his expression change even once, whether he talked about food, law, health, power, or the economy. He cared not the tiniest bit about the effect his actions would have, claiming that it was my "job."
He told me to "clean up" the country before he went out for a tour, as he did not want to see anything that would sour his mood, like the mistreatment of workers or women.
Even bringing up such a topic spoke volumes about his personality, for what kind of person would even suggest such a thing?
It was as if there was a gap in understanding, but it finally clicked when I truly grasped how he viewed this nation.
He saw this nation, this large geopolitical landmass, as nothing more than I would see a dollhouse.
He didn't care about the ramifications of his actions. He didn't care about the people of this world, their culture, their lives, unless it served his goals.
He viewed this nation as nothing more than a tool, a conventional one, that would help him accomplish his objectives.
...
'Where was I again? Right! Accomplishing his goals.' To do that, "I"—or more accurately, the Queen—would need to hold a National Assembly. But to hold the National Assembly, I would need the Queen's support. To get the Queen out of her room, I would need Commander Lastrange's support, who was currently missing in action.
I wanted to cry.
I was organizing events like the Alkavian National Assembly as if they were some school picnic. An event that had not taken place since the time of the Magi King's rise to power. An event whose very idea would be laughed at, were it not for the necessity of uniting due to the rise of the Third Kingdom in the Peninsula, thanks to the Magi King's existance.
After all, when else would the various power blocks of the nation ever need to come together in unity, unless they were faced with unfathomable destruction threatening the very roots of a once-prosperous land?
With my will resolved and my plans set in place, all I needed now was to wait for the Commander's return, so I could lay forth my 'proposal' to the committee.
"FURKCH!" The doors of my new office erupted with force, causing the stacks of papers previously strewn over my desk to fly into the air.
"THE HELL!" I screamed furiously. The Palace staff had been strictly instructed not to disturb me in my new room. At this rate, I was pretty sure the Round Table, upon which numerous treaties and agreements had been signed, would become my bed.
I raised my hands, balled into fists, expressing my aggression, my fury. After all, though it looked a bit messy, I had everything placed right where I needed it. 'Now I'll have to do all that work over again!'
But my fists lost their strength. My arms lost their strength. My entire body lost its will to exist as my eyes finally registered the man standing in front of me.
'A ghost!' My heart raced for a moment before the irrational thought was overridden by my mind's sharp calculations.
'If not a ghost, then could it be?!!!' The alternative was somehow even more frightening. The reality of it became the last straw upon my already fragile state of mind, and I blacked out from the sheer weight of the stress, my consciousness fell deep into a precious slumber.
[Unknown POV]
"Poor girl." The words escaped my lips, laced with the heavy burden of empathy and understanding that only age can provide. With a subtle motion of my hand, my trusted knight moved swiftly, catching the Duchess before her fragile form could hit the cold, unforgiving floor. I watched as the strain, the impossible weight of her responsibilities, finally claimed her consciousness.
Ah, the curse of brilliance.
It is a burden that only a select few truly understand, and in this moment, I could see that she was one of them. Too smart for her own good, too perceptive, and yet still too young to shoulder such a monumental task.
She had reached her limit.
Still, her father had boasted of her brilliance, but even I, with all my wisdom, could not have foreseen the sheer scope of her genius. It was remarkable how quickly she had pieced together the truth, deducing the reality of the situation in but a fleeting moment. I bent down slowly, my aged, wrinkled hand brushing against the delicate parchment scattered on the floor. The wrinkles of the paper mirrored my own, old yet filled with the wisdom of the ages.
"…Not bad." I muttered softly to myself, inspecting the intricate notes and plans that lay at my feet. Her work, though chaotic in its organization, was nothing short of impressive. She had grasped the enormity of the task before her with a sharpness of mind that many seasoned advisors could never hope to possess.
Yet, despite her competence, there was no denying the cruel truth—she was still young, too young to bear the weight of a nation on her slender shoulders.
I released a long, tired sigh. "It seems..." I began, the weariness of centuries coating my voice, "it is still too soon to pass on this responsibility to the younger generation."
I wasn't bitter that my carefully laid plans had now been thrown into disarray—no, the whims of fate had always been an old acquaintance of mine. But would it be asking too much to at least allow me the liberty of feeling a little annoyed? After all, even emperors deserve moments of quiet frustration.
"It is, Luscious," came a familiar voice, deep and gravelly with age, yet still sharp as a blade. My old friend—no, my brother-in-arms—stood beside me, his gaze steady and knowing. His insight into my thoughts was as precise as ever, effortlessly reading my unspoken grievances. A smirk tugged at the corners of his weathered lips, despite his best efforts to conceal it.
Ah, how many years had it been since we first served this kingdom?
The look in his eyes said it all: 'My work is done. Now, it's your turn to deal with this mess.'
The unspoken challenge between us hung in the air, like an ancient dance we had both perfected over countless decades. I could feel the corners of my own lips twitching upward, despite myself.
"Well," I began, straightening my back with all the dignity befitting my station, though the effort felt monumental, "let's get to work."
The weight of this kingdom rested upon my shoulders once again. The gears of fate had shifted, and I was drawn back into the center of the storm, just as I had been countless times before. The nation's future—this fragile, crumbling empire—was in need of guidance. And though I had hoped to pass this mantle on to the younger generation, the path ahead was far from simple.
With one last glance at the unconscious Duchess, her face peaceful now in the arms of sleep, I steeled my resolve. There would be time for rest later. For now, the empire called, and I, as ever, would answer.
For the Emperor would answer the call of his subjects, even in "death".